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“Snake,” Hal’s voice was foriegn to his own ears. The question that had been sharp in his throat finally tumbled into the air. “You’re not going to kill Liquid, are you?” He could feel his heart twist at the thought. Liquid splayed on the ground, blood spilling from his lips as his fierce eyes glazed over. It chilled him just to imagine Liquid still, unmoving.
Snake’s voice was gruff over the Codec. “If I have to.”
Of course. Hal didn’t know what he expected. He knew he should go silent, resign himself to the darkness of his office and choke back the tears. It was what had to happen, to stop REX. To stop the ‘terrorist’ plans. But Liquid wasn’t a bad guy, he was just mixed up in something awful. He wasn’t bad, he didn’t need execution. If Liquid was evil, then...then so was Hal. Without him, REX wouldn’t exist, Liquid would have nothing to back up his threats.
“What if you don’t have to?” Hal asked, tentative. Surely, there had to be another answer. Surely, arresting him was a possibility. They didn’t really send Snake in here with the intention of gunning everyone down, did they?
Snake huffed a sigh. “And do what?” His irritation was biting. “Slap him on the wrist? Make him apologize?”
Hal swallowed. It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, but––-
“This is war, Otacon. People are killed when they have to be killed. Liquid isn’t going to surrender. Killing him is the only way we’re getting out of here.”
‘We’re’.
Snake had been treating him like a freed hostage since they met. Hal didn’t think he was a hostage, or at least, he didn’t feel like one. Everyone had actually been pretty welcoming to him, even before this. He’d been enamoured with him the first time he laid eyes on the man. Blonde hair, strong mouth, and a steely gaze with a twinkle of something warmer...more affectionate than he let on. He and Liquid had...well, Liquid had done the flirting, and Hal soaked it up. It hadn’t been topical, either, not that Hal anything surface-level to compliment. Liquid praised his intelligence, his ingenuity, called him brilliant. It was such a trivial word by now, but to hear Liquid say it? It made Hal blush, just remembering it. Remembering Liquid leaned over him to see the computer screen more clearly, one arm braced against the desk and the other resting on Hal’s shoulder. How he turned and smiled at him, wide and thoroughly impressed after picking over the code himself. Hal was smitten. Pretty and smart, just his type.
For a supposedly shy person, it was comical how little it took for Liquid to slip his hands under Hal’s shirt, to get him to tilt his head back when he mouthed at the column of his throat. It was so stupid to say outloud, but things felt...right. He and Liquid could lose hours to conversation. Conversations about jets and space and their favorite types of stories, tales of childhood. It was on the last one where Liquid seemed the most strained, like there were chunks he was leaving out. Hal didn’t mind, not when Liquid was twirling a lock of his silver hair between his fingers. He loved when Liquid talked. He loved his voice, how expressive even the finest details of his face were. The way his eyelashes caught in the light said more than words ever could at times.
He wished Snake could see Liquid as something other than a target. See him for what he really was. A work of art. Mars himself, poised with his spear. Was Hal sick for this? Was he sick for crying over REX's reality and now denying Liquid’s?
“Okay,” Snake’s voice broke over the Codec. “Final PAL code.”
“Let’s hope it works.” Hal muttered, wrapping his arms around his stomach to still the churning. Liquid didn’t deserve death. He could be so tender, so….loving, Hal dared. Like when he had taken Hal’s sore hands between his, massaged at the delicate bones with care, such an intensity in his eyes. Would an evil person do that? Would an evil person rub someone’s hands?
From the security camera, he watched Snake step in front of the final display and slide the card in. The door slammed shut, alarms screamed over Snake’s cursing. Hal’s controls lit red and green as the room filled with thick, yellow gas.
“Otacon!” Snake yelled, uselessly covering his face with his hands. “Otacon! Otacon!” He called between racking coughs, voice growing harsh and strained. “Help me! Otacon!” He heaved violently, doubling over.
Hal froze. Snake’s cries grew distant, nonsensical. Mechanically, he drew his hands away from the keyboard. His desperate wheezing was little more than static as Hal turned to getting REX online. Snake was aware of what happens to people in war.